Back in Black
by splendeur
Summary: Massie Block has spent the last five years in SoCal, trying to distance herself from the vindictive mess that is Westchester, NY. When Claire Lyons has the audacity to slander her name, Massie decides it's about time she paid her old town a visit to set things straight. Hackles will be raised. Fur will fly. And Massie is positive she will get her way in the end. Various pairings.
1. Bound

**A/N: **Hey guys! I'm back with another new story... I know, I know. I promise this one will be worth it! I don't want to give too much of the plot away, you'll learn the basics in this chapter. I wanted to write a grown!up PC story alongside _phonies_ and my other stories, because I'm tiring of grade-school drama. There's so much more territory to cover when the one is in their 20s and richer than most European countries. Give it a chance? I promise it won't disappoint :)

-Bridget

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><p><strong>1 – "Bound"<strong>

**San Diego, California**

**The Icon Building; Loft #6**

**23 May – Monday**

**7:58 A.M.**

Massie Block curled into a small ball with her blanket in her fists, attempting to block the sunlight from her eyes. It was no use; the eggshell blue down comforter was practically transparent in the streaming sunlight. Her toes pointed, her arms stretched above her head and she released the blanket back to it's rightful place: Massie was finally awake.

Yawning, Massie rolled out of bed and padded over to the large bay windows that made up the west-facing wall of her room. With the heel of her palm, she slid open the slider and stepped out onto the veranda. Familiar sights and sounds assaulted her; the rhythmic crash and fall of the surf breaking on the beach, bits and pieces of her downstairs neighbor's phone conversation, the gentle rumble of cars passing on the street below, and the wind whistling through the fronds of palm trees a few feet away from where she stood.

After a few minutes of gazing bleary-eyed into the ocean a building away, Massie turned back inside. Her room was large and airy, decorated in blues and reds. A pale tan and red-striped looped rug covered the majority of the pine flooring. Two furry white beanbags held court around a glass coffee table sat before a majestic electric fireplace. In the top-right corner was a gigantic flat screen television, placed just so that it was visible from anywhere in the room. Massie walked between the beanbags and her California king bed to reach the wooden door on the opposite side of the room.

She grasped the iron door handle and pushed. The lightwood door gave way to her expansive pale grey and white marble bathroom. Massie passed the double sinks, the pass through into the walk-in closet and the stone-footed tub on her way to the glass walk-in shower. She shed clothing as she went, first her squirrel-print Jonathan Adler boxers, then her oversized white sleep-shirt, and finally her underwear.

As soon as she stepped out of the shower, refreshed, she heard the characteristic ping-ping of a waiting text. Drying her body as she went, Massie padded back into her room to retrieve her black iPhone.

**Sofie: **turn on tv now

**Sofie: **you won't believe it

**Sofie: **channel 6? NBC?

Sofie Castner was Massie's Finnish roommate. She had legs that stretched for miles, a shiny mop of platinum blonde hair and an affect that matched Massie's in both mannerisms and wit.

**Massie: **ok

**Massie: **why?

Shaking her head, Massie hurried into her walk in closet, sliding on a fresh pair of plaid boxer shorts and a fluffy robe. She wrapped her hair in a pale green towel and slid on Ugg house slippers. What did her roommate want to show her? Was Sofie's latest commercial airing already? Sofie was currently away in Finland, working on a commercial project for Bavarian Motor Works (BMW). Her father owned a large stock in the company, evidenced by the three BMWs that Sofie kept parked at the building's parking structure.

**Sofie: **just turn it on

**Massie: **I'm getting there

**Sofie: **fine, it's Claire Lyons

**Sofie: **that girl u told me about?

**Sofie: **she's on the Today Show

**Sofie: **thought u might be interested

Massie stopped in her tracks, curiously reading the four text messages. So, Claire Lyons on the Today Show, huh? She hadn't seen the name in years, or at least liked to tell herself that. It would certainly be worth turning on the TV now.

**Massie: **ok, turning on now, thanks

The thin brunette plopped down on the brown leather couch situated in the middle of the shared living space in the two-bedroom loft. Shivering against the cool leather, she pulled a black cashmere throw onto her long legs as she scrambled for the remote. Luck would have it; the TV was already set to channel six.

A smiley blonde reporter with saucer-like chocolate brown eyes filled the screen, talking animatedly with what appeared to be a rainstorm behind her.

"Back to the studio with Kathy and Hoda!" she said with finality, and the screen flipped back to a desk with two bar stools occupied by two reporters behind it. In the background, Massie caught glimpses of tourists jockeying to be seen through the windows, mouthing "Hi Mom" and waving animatedly. Massie was struck with a certain longing for Manhattan – she truly _did _miss traipsing down 5th Avenue making fun of the hordes of tourists stopping the flow of foot-traffic to take pictures of every single skyscraper.

"Thanks Jessie!" The darker-skinned of the duo said as she turned to face the camera. "Next we have a special treat: Claire Lyons, socialite known and renowned for her charity work in Rwanda is here to talk with us about her new novel, _Clique High_. Here she comes!"

And out came Claire Lyons. Her pale blonde hair was no longer long and wavy like it used to be, but cropped to her shoulders and flat-ironed stick straight. Her bright blue eyes were outlined with a layer of kohl and her full lips were expertly filled in with a blue-based red. All together, Massie couldn't deny the girl looked good. The four, or was it five years since Massie had seen her had done her well.

"Hello, hello!" Claire crowed, kissing the two reporters on their cheeks. She appeared to be having a small problem balancing in her Louboutins, but Claire covered it well. "How _are_ you dears?"

Massie wrinkled her nose at the blonde's demeanor. It was her innate reaction when new money tried to act like _old money_. Claire sounded like Massie's _mother_. And what on earth was the girl doing wearing Louboutins on national television? Did she _want_ to be labeled a snob and go the way of Gwyneth Paltrow?

"Very good, very good!" Kathy, the blonde reporter, grinned. She directed Claire to the armchair next to the desk. "We have so much to ask you, dear. So, so much."

Claire giggled and threw her hair back. It was a silly gesture, because Claire had little hair to throw. "Ask away!"

"Well, miss Claire Lyons is here to talk about her novel, let's not forget about that." Hoda chastised, laughing. Massie considered grabbing a trashcan incase she threw up from the love fest unfolding before her eyes. Claire had always had a way with those older than her. It infuriated Massie.

"Oh yes, the book!" Claire said grandly. "Yes, my first novel hit bookstore shelves yesterday, in fact!"

Massie's ears perked. Claire, a _writer_? She would have never seen that coming.

Kathy rested her elbows on the table, leaning close to Claire; "So I hear that Clique High is a true story disguised as fiction. Does this rumor ring true?"

Claire dramatically paused before glancing down and responding, "It mirrors my own experiences with… bullying, yes."

"Oh _really_?" The two hosts cooed in tandem.

"Yes, I had some experiences when I was younger that is common to what many teenage girls experience all across America. Experiences _no one _should have to face."

Kathy and Hoda nodded.

"In fact, I hope that this will lead to a series of seminars on bullying where I can speak of my High School experiences."

Massie sat with her amber eyes fixated on the screen, eyebrows raised. Claire Lyons? Getting _bullied_? That was an interesting joke if Massie had ever heard one.

"Would you like to read a few passages, Claire?" Hoda handed the blonde a copy of what Massie assumed was the novel – a hardback completely encased in pink with green lettering. Massie scrunched her nose in distaste at the color combination. "I'm sure mothers across the nation would love to have their daughters hear what you have to say."

"I would love to," Claire grinned, accepting the novel. She flipped her hair again, coughed twice, and opened the novel near the beginning.

"Caty Longwillow stepped carefully across the countless, rough but not _too _rough, shiny but not _too_ shiny, stones in the driveway. Several steps away, Maisie Flock was exiting her house with three girls in tow. Caty would later learn that these girls' names were Kaitlynn Gregman, Alissa Riverbrook, and Devon Marvik." Claire read in a deliberate, theatrical tone, lingering on every single word.

Massie nearly leaped up from the couch. _What?! _She rewound the segment back five times, but every time Claire said the same names.

"What the fuck?" Massie announced to her empty apartment. "What the fuck does Claire think she's doing?" She had a good hunch at where this novel was heading. _Maisie Flock_? Could Claire get _anymore_ obvious? Kaitlynn _Greg_man? Alissa _River_brook? Devon _Marvik_?

Claire paused and flipped to a page near the end of the novel.

"Maisie cowered in the corner as the Sophomore class president sat the Homecoming Princess Crown on the top of Caty's head. Behind her stood the rest of her court, Kaitlynn, Alissa and Devon. They had finally seen Maisie for the cruel, miserable and broken girl she was. They would never…" Claire giggled and paused, "I don't want to give away the entire ending!"

"Powerful!" Kathy said. At the same time, Hoda smiled brightly and nodded her approval.

"Thank you so much," Claire simpered, turning her head towards the Camera. For a moment, it looked and felt just like Claire was looking through the glass straight at Massie. Massie held the gaze, even though she realized Claire couldn't know she was watching.

Based on a true story? _True story my ass_, Massie contemplated. So this was what Claire was up to now. _Still_ twisting the truth and using everything she could to her advantage. Massie grit her teeth and let out a frustrated growl. It would take an idiot to not know Claire's novel was about Massie, given the knowledge of their history.

Massie's butt buzzed.

**Sofie: **damn

Massie rolled her eyes and set the phone aside. _Damn_ was more than right.

"Okay, enough about that." Kathy bounced in her seat like a schoolgirl. "I hear you have a pending engagement with Cameron Jameston-Fisher?"

If Massie had been paying attention before, now she was absorbed in the screen. She slowly leaned forward, waiting for Claire's response.

Claire buried her face in her hands for a moment, feigning modesty. When she emerged, her face was red.

"Awh, Kathy, don't torture the girl."

"No, no it's alright…" Claire gave a nervous giggle. Massie narrowed her eyes, daring Claire to say it. Waiting for her to reveal the diamond on her ring finger. Her _prize_.

"Cam and I…" Claire dropped her sentence, turning to look out the window. Massie lifted herself in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her, never once taking her eyes off the television.

Massie waited for Claire to say they were engaged. If she did, it was all over. Massie could finally begin the process of truly getting over her unfulfilled high school relationship, instead of avoiding it by moving halfway across the nation for college.

"We're not engaged…_yet_," Claire stressed, giving the hosts a wink. They both squealed like fifty-year-old women should never squeal. Massie, with conflicting emotions, clicked off the TV. She had seen enough.

What had she learned? Claire had written a (bullshit) novel about Westchester, butchering the ex-Pretty Committee's names to feign privacy. What else had she written? Was Cam mentioned? (She mentally kicked herself for lingering on the subject). Massie sighed, realizing there was only one way to satisfy her burning curiosity. She had to go buy a copy.

Thirty minutes later, Massie was perched in an oceanfront Starbucks, opening the very first page of _Clique High_ by Claire Stacy Lyons. Her chestnut hair was tied up in a knot on the top of her head, and she wore a simple black T-shirt dress and sandals. Even in her no-makeup state, Massie could tell the two guys beside her were checking her out. Even though both were attractive, Massie didn't pay them any attention as she tore through the book in a little less than 45 minutes.

She had always been a fast reader, and the way Clique High was written proved no challenges to her. The plot was simple, oh-so-simple. Catherine "Caty" Longwillow shows up to a high-powered New Jersey town and encounters a clique that calls itself "The A-list Hotties." Maisie hates the new girl on site and sets out to make her life hell. Caty, however, can do no wrong and rises to the top for her good looks (_prettier than Maisie_ is noted several times). Maisie's boyfriend, Carter Chance, dumps her for Caty at one point.

Maisie goes on to lose the homecoming court vote, turns into a total bitch and drives all of her friends away and ends up leaving at the end of Sophomore year to boarding school at the end of the book without an apology to Caty. 'What an outrage', Caty's supporters cry, and they plan on getting revenge but angelic Caty stops them and lectures them on morals.

The plot was extremely basic and predictable, and very untrue at the same time. Based on Claire's experiences? Claire definitely needed to go into a psychological ward if this was what she remembered from High School.

Massie, upon reading the final chapter, stood up and dumped the pink-and-green monstrosity in the Starbucks trashcan with her empty Venti Passion-Tea. With many customers' eyes on her, she stalked out of the establishment and headed into the parking lot.

Massie unlocked her shiny black Audi RS5 and clambered behind the wheel. She rested her head on the leather seatback and took a deep breath. What next? Claire had misrepresented everything in her novel, and Massie was sure that she would _somehow_ be affected by it. Even if no one else realized the novel was talking about her, it was a purposeful gibe on Claire's part. _Hasn't she done enough?_ Massie thought. _Ruined my life back in Westchester, was that not enough for her?_ _Stole my boyfriend? My friends?_

Gradually, an idea began to take shape in Massie's head. She reversed out of the parking lot and merged onto Sea Fiddler Lane, thinking all the way home. There was still time. There was still time.

As she pulled in to her designated spot, between Sofie's ice blue BMW i8 and her vivid red BMW M5, she came to a final conclusion.

Maybe it was about time she paid her dear parents a visit in Westchester.

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><p><strong>AN:** So? What did you think? Do you like the plot? Have any ideas about where this should go? Want to request any pairings (no promises)? The review box is waiting below.

****Review Question: **What is your favorite non-canon pairing for Clique? e.g. Massie/Josh, Claire/Derrick, Alicia/Cam etc.

Thanks for reading! Please, please, please feel free to drop me a review. Even a word or two would be nice! Any response is good response in my book.

-Bridget

**PS:** Look on my profile page soon for visualization of different things mentioned in _Back in Black_, e.g. cars, homes, characters!


	2. Muddy Paws

**A/N:** Thank you so much for all the positive feedback! I'm going to do a rare review reply section in thanks: :)

**Guest(1):** Thanks for all the information! I like that you are into Camvia, not many people are!

**Anonymous:** Thank you so much! Here's your update :)

**Guest(2):** ...

**EXCITED:** Thank you! I'm so glad you like this idea, I'm fond of it as well :)

**Guest(3):** YES! Another Clarington fan!

**MWAVULOUS:** Ooh, seems like a lot of my reviewers dislike Claire! Interesting, why? Thanks for responding!

**Bellibies:** Thanks, I love Massington too (shh, don't tell :)

**Guest(4):** Here it is! Thanks for your interest! :)

This is the most anon reviews I've ever gotten! Thank you ALL so much, and please please please keep on reviewing and tell me how I'm doing!

In this chapter, we'll get a look at Westchester.

Enjoy :)

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><p><strong>2 – "Muddy Paws"<strong>

**Westchester, New York**

**The Rivera Estate; Great Lawn**

**24 May – Tuesday**

**2:19 P.M.**

On the afternoon of May 24th, 2014, Alicia Rivera was totally and downright jaded. It was the umpteenth Rivera-Estate Tuesday she has been forced to endure in her life, and she was utterly _over it_.

Alicia smoothed out her abstract printed silk dress from All Saints, ensuring that the delicate material had not picked. Leaning back on the bench swing, she attempted to close her eyes and relaxed, but found her attempt futile. She crossed, and uncrossed, her legs, examining the gold and dark tan wedges on her feet. Jimmy Choo was always there to lift her spirits, even in the worst of times.

A shrill screech carried by the wind caused Alicia to glance up at the event happening twenty yards from where she sat. There, the Rivera family dog, Hootie, bounced up repeatedly on Sibella Singer's white Valentino. The petite blonde screamed for a while longer, before realizing that raising the decibel level would not magically remove the muddy paw prints from her sundress. Nadia Rivera was forced to swoop in, careful to avoid the dog's paws, and drag the German Shepard towards the pool house. It was a comical sight: Nadia half-bending over in her tight, mid-thigh bodycon dress, attempting to drag the dog's collar with the pads of her fingers so her nails were not harmed.

Alicia could tell Nadia was looking for either her or one of the help by her rapid back-and-forth head movements. Alicia sat perfectly still, shrouded by the shadow of the great oak, watching the demonstration idly. She wanted zilch to do with the muddy dog – Alicia wasn't an animal person by any means. She especially wasn't a _muddy_ animal person.

"About time Sibella got the Hootie treatment."

Alicia swiveled around to see Dylan Abeley-Marvil standing behind her, two thin flutes of champagne in her slender fingers.

Alicia grinned at her friend, accepting the glass. "Almost everyone's gotten it at one point, remember when he busted through the shed door at Graduation, interrupting Alexandra losing her virginity to Kemp?"

Dylan let out a hearty giggle, "I forgot about that, I need to give that dog a high five. Kemp probably should too, it made him a legend among the guys – you'd of thought he planned it."

The two girls sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. Alicia basked in the comfort that came with spending time with one of her oldest friends.

"Oh!" Dylan said suddenly, "I remember what I came to warn you about."

"What?" Alicia groaned, already forming a guess. "Does it involve-"

Dylan cut her off with a roll of her emerald-green eyes, "Claire? Yeah. Cam just left with Derrick to go pick up a friend from JFK, so we'll probably be seeing her soon. She'll need us to cling to now that her practical hubby-to-be is gone."

"Oh joy." Alicia let the years of resentment flow into those two words. She turned back to the lawn.

"I know." Dylan sighed, examining a bright red curl. "I managed to avoid her for almost two hours before she inserted herself into a conversation between Chris, Kendra, William and I. Of course, she was dragging Cam close behind."

"Where is Chris, anyway? Ditch him talking to Massie Block's parents?" Alicia cracked, patting the seat next to her on the swing. Dylan took the hint, and sat down on the white cushion. Alicia took the opportunity to appreciate the redhead's outfit, an electric green Alice + Olivia sheath with strappy dove grey Manolos.

"Nah, he had a work dinner in New York, something with the visiting physician panel or something." Dylan fiddled with her left hand, rearranging her sapphire and diamond engagement ring and band. She had been the first out of their group to get married, nabbing Chris Abeley, one of the hottest bachelors on the market.

"Found you," a third voice interrupted, belonging to Kristen Gregory. The short blonde was hiking up the small grass hill in front of them, followed by Emilie Beckman. "Red alert for _el león_."

Alicia and Dylan sighed, recognizing their code name for Claire. They scooted over on the wide swing, making room for the two newcomers.

"If she starts talking about that goddamn book again, I'm _going_ to jump in the pond. I swear. Or I'll sic Hootie on her." Alicia said in a clipped tone, yawning.

"I'm still pissed she gave my 'inspired character' a white-trash name," Kristen said, "Honestly, though. Kaitlynn? Who spells it like that?"

"Shush, _Gregman_," Alicia giggled, "at least yours doesn't sound like a bad romance character name." She cleared her throat; "_Alissa Riverbrooke strode down the dappled lane, never once realizing that she was being trailed by Banks Brickman, the baddest cowboy west of the Louisiana Purchase._"

All four girls dissolved into laughter.

Dylan made fun of hers next, blinking tears out of her eyes, "And what about Devon Marvik? Sounds like the type of girl that skips class daily to shoot up Cocaine in the back alley."

Another round of hilarity rolled over the girls.

"Honestly, Emilie, you should be so, so thankful you aren't in this," Alicia proclaimed, eyeing the tall, slightly tanned girl beside her. "It's mortifying."

Emilie Beckman stood at a lean six foot two, with russet waves reaching her shoulder blades and narrow mocha brown eyes. She had been told all her life that she should model, but it wasn't her style, instead deciding to attend NYU for a finance degree. She was Californian, born and raised, but was quickly adapting to the Westchester style of life.

"Oh I know," Emilie said, widening her eyes. "When Josh got the advance copy, we stayed up all night reading it to each other and cringing. It was simply awful. She must have had a real bone to pick with whoever 'Maisie Flock' is in real life."

All three girls beside her on the swing busied themselves in examining their dresses.

Kristen, noting that neither Alicia nor Dylan seemed like they were going to respond, sighed and readied herself to speak, "Yeah-"

The dirty blonde was cut off by a loud declaration.

"There all of you are!" Claire Lyons marched up the hill towards the swing, yellow dress flapping in the breeze. Alicia noted with amusement that Claire's white Louboutins were sinking in the grass with every step, making the towhead grimace. "I've been looking forever!"

"Really?" Kristen said under her breath. "Never would have thought."

The temperature seemed to cool ten degrees once Claire Lyons stood before the four girls, completing their group. The girls surveyed the blonde, waiting for her to speak. Alicia had the most hostile of all the expressions, one eyebrow cocked and her lips pursed.

"Sorry I didn't show up earlier, I've been _swamped_. Every person at this gala wants to congratulate me on the novel, it appears. Thankfully, the response has been more than decent! The public absolutely loves it."

"Did you speak to the Blocks?" Kristen asked with a seemingly straight face, although Alicia could tell she was trying to keep a laugh from surfacing. This was often the routine when the girls were feeling particularly anti-Claire. They each took turns poking fun at the blonde, often mentioning a certain few to see if they could get a rise out of her. "Did they absolutely love it?"

"In fact, I did not," Claire said, momentarily flustered. Dylan side-eyed her, remembering the conversation intrusion from before. "Well, I did, but we talked about other things. You know, I'm not always talking about Clique High – imagine how boring that would be!"

"So where's Cam?" Alicia leaned back against the swing, closing her eyes. It was always in these moments when she wished she had a magic wand. Poof! Claire Lyons would vanish and her good mood would reappear. Alicia tried whispering a gibberish incantation under her breath. But alas, Alicia had no magic wand, and Claire was still there when she opened her eyes.

"Picking up a friend," Claire said. She conspicuously lifted her wrist and let the cascade of assorted Cartier bracelets waterfall further back up her arm.

Alicia glanced at the bracelets briefly, and noted one shinier than the rest. It was rose gold, with diamonds placed periodically along the band. Alicia had always believed that rose gold was tacky, and here was proof right before her eyes.

"New love bracelet, Claire?" Alicia spoke in a bored tone, noticing another opportunity to mess with the woman in front of her.

"Oh, yes." Claire looked absolutely delighted that someone had noticed. "Cammy dearest gave it to me this morning to make up for him leaving early today."

"Oh really?" Alicia spoke; hoping that one of her friends would catch on.

Kristen spoke next, "But it's still not an engagement ring, is it?"

Alicia internally crowed with delight. She could always count on her sharp-as-a-tack friend to catch on. The engagement was a recently discovered way to get under Claire's skin.

Claire's nostrils flared momentarily, but she regained her cool. She couldn't risk her friendship with the group. These girls, Alicia, Dylan, Kristen and Emilie, were the girls she needed to be seen with. They would be her bridesmaids, and they would soon become the next generation of parents in Westchester. Together, their children would rule the schools. It was Claire's goal, an important one, and this friend group was the first step.

"Oh, I already know when Cam is going to propose," Claire said airily, staring off into the distance. When none of the girls asked when, Claire continued, "This weekend."

"Oh really?" Dylan intoned, feigning interest. Alicia downed the rest of her champagne in one sip. She _needed_ the buzz to get through this.

"Yes, after the show," Claire said with conviction. Nevertheless, Alicia could see straight through the girl, and could tell that it was at best, a good guess.

"Interesting, interesting." Alicia cooed. "What a fun night it'll be!"

"You know," Kristen spoke up suddenly, causing everyone to turn to her. "I wonder how Massie's doing in California, now that you mention her parents. Didn't she go to UC Berkeley? I forget what she majored in."

Emilie, who had been silent through most of the conversation, looked on in interest. In the short time she had been a friend to these girls, the name Massie Block came up too commonly for this to be a coincidence. That, combined with Kristen, Dylan and Alicia's apparent wish to pick a fight with Claire caused Kristen's words to be attention grabbing. For whatever reason, this Massie girl was a cause of conflict. Emilie was determined to figure out the mystery, sooner or later. The truth always came out in the end, after all.

"Finance." Alicia said flatly. "Finance and Business."

Claire seemed to be taking her time thinking about how to respond. A stagnant pause hung in the air. Dylan took the time to re-strap her Manolos.

"Interesting topic to bring up, Kristen," Claire said mildly. "Interesting."

"I'd hope so," Kristen said back, meeting Claire's eyes. The two blondes glowered at each other for a moment, before Claire broke the connection to fake a cough.

"Oh, I remember. I have gossip." Claire said. "Did you guys witness the disaster that was Allie-Rose's outfit today? Hardly covered her G-string, I'd say."

"I quite liked the color," Alicia said evenly, not engaging. Kristen and Dylan murmured assent. Emilie remained silent, noting the tension building.

"Well, I think it's unsuitable for her to even be here. Obviously, whom she's trying to impress isn't even here. She simply could not keep him entertained, even when she wore slutty outfits such as those." Claire looked at Alicia, assuming the brunette would approve her words.

"I'd be careful Claire," Alicia said suddenly. "You _should_ keep a close watch on Cam with _harlots_ like Allie-Rose around. I seem to remember a certain Olivia Ryan? I wouldn't want to see _Cammy _lose interest and fall into her arms. After all, he _does _spend a lot of time with Derrick."

With that, Alicia stood up sharply. She discarded the empty champagne glass on the nearby table and retrieved her purse from underneath the swing.

"Do you still want to go shopping with me, Emilie?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer before hiking down the hill towards the main house.

Emilie nodded and stood up, remembering their plans for the day. She gave an apologetic look to the three girls she was leaving and hurried off, following Alicia. The brunette caught up easily thanks to her long legs and flat Stuart Weitzman sandals.

"Well," Claire tsk-tsked. "Looks like someone's a little self-conscious of her single state! Still a little upset about the Derrick situation, hmm? "

Dylan and Kristen looked away; knowing that they knew what Claire did not. Alicia wouldn't want them to share her situation with Claire.

"Alright, girls, I think I must go. I have to get back to our town house. Hopefully I can get the Bentley home without scratching it, Cam would kill me if I hurt his baby. I'll see you all tonight, 7 PM at Folgratto. Don't be late." Claire smiled, and went the same way as Alicia.

Dylan and Kristen let out a simultaneous sigh. The tense fifteen minutes were finally over, and Claire had finally left them alone. They had a little over four hours of Claire-free time before they would be forced to interact with the insufferable blonde again.

Meanwhile, not a single person on the Rivera estate knew that Trouble was coming for the five girls. Trouble was currently on a plane, somewhere over Pennsylvania. And Trouble was ready for her hometown. Oh, _so_ ready.

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><p><strong>AN: **Claire reveal! What do you think about her character? Expected? Different than what you thought?

**REVIEW QUESTION (answer in box below):** Are you a fan of long clothing descriptions or more concise? Or a mix? What about location/setting descriptions? Short and sweet? Or long, so you can really immerse yourself in the local?

REVIEWS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! Let me know what you think, even if only "I hate Emilie" or "This is ok". I _love_ them all!

**- Bridget**

**(PS: **Let me know if you have any guesses for what's going to happen in the future for this story!)


	3. Caught

**A/N:** Thank you ALL so much for reviewing! I promise, it forced me to plan a chapter and update much quicker! Thank you so so so much to **Softball185**, **GirlofScotland (2)**, **Guest i**, **Guest ii**, **of snow and hearts**, **anonymous**, **outside the crayon box**, **Ellen**, **Guest iii**, **Guest iv**, **Catt**, **Guest v**, **Guest vi** and **Guest vii** for reviewing. This is an astronomical amount of guest reviews, and I love it! Please, please, please keep on reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Get ready for the two worlds to converge right about...

NOW :)

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><p><strong>3 –"Caught"<strong>

**(Jamaica, Queens) New York City, New York**

**John F. Kennedy International Airport; Terminal 4**

**24 May – Tuesday**

**4:50 P.M.**

"Not," Cam Fisher crowed softly, eying a brunette in a tight bandage dress and heeled boots saunter past. "Why do you think they even go out in public, let alone dressed like that? If I looked like that as a female, I'd of alienated myself years ago."

"Nice body," Derrick Harrington shrugged noncommittally. "She knows how to show what she's got, at least."

"Nah, man." Cam paused, averting his eyes from the said girl, "It doesn't matter how big the ass is if the face is _butter_." He said the word with revulsion, and washed away the sentence with a swig from his drink.

"I already knew that, based on your current choices," Derrick said. The blonde had a slight smirk on his lips, and the words came out shaded belligerently. He shook his head upon discovering that his words fell on deaf ears – his inky-haired companion was yet again staring at a girl across the bar: this one a rather bemused bottle-blonde. "Yo, Cam."

"What?" Cam resurfaced from his stare. "I was trying to decide. I'm going to have to go with not, her nose is a little _too_ narrow. Probably means she's had some plastic surgery and, like talks, like, this, like with, like, no pauses. "

"You sound like a fucking girl," Derrick retorted with contempt. "Down every last detail, huh?"

"Well I don't see you taking your turn," Cam said. He was referring to the duo's classic game of Hot or Not, a perfect way to pass the time. It was rather simple, spot a girl and deem her one-night-stand worthy (in a pinch) or not. "Don't just sit there and criticize, participate!"

Derrick rolled his eyes and parted his lips to respond just as their waitress approached the table. She smiled at Cam and Derrick in turn.

"Can I get y'all another round?" As she drawled, she contorted this way and that to evince her chest under the premise of smoothing her hair down.

"That'd be great, thanks," Cam drawled back, making no effort to look away from the cleavage in front of him. Derrick flushed: he couldn't help but be embarrassed at his friend's pertinacious tendency to be such a _dog_. Cam hadn't always been this way, but it had worsened as soon as he hit 16. Newfound fame and riches hadn't helped any, and ever since he grew to match Derrick's height of 6' 5", he practically had to swat girls off of him.

For some reason, Derrick hadn't traveled the same path. He was tall, lanky, blonde, and had a relatively nice personality. The thing was, Derrick felt like a stranger in his own life. He had a tendency towards aloofness, and did not care for those stupid Westchester events. After hitting adulthood, he had lost his love for picking up and flirting with the opposite sex. A fear of derision always clouded his sight when he attempted to employ his old tactics, ever since…

"I'll be right back with those," the waitresses' overly sanguine chirp broke into Derrick's thoughts. As soon as she stepped away, Cam looked at Derrick expectantly. ,

"What?" Derrick snapped. When Cam nodded his head towards the waitress, and his thought process became clear, Derrick breathed in and out deeply.

"Hot," he bit out in response, trying to even his tempers. It was times like these where his friend really got on his nerves. "Now, when the hell is this Landon Crane getting in?"

"Five," Cam answered languidly, tapping his fingers on the table. "I definitely agree with you. Nice ass, rack and a decent face. Should I get her number? Nah, she'll give it to me." He paused, and glanced out the window towards the tarmac. "Probably won't use it though, she looks like outer borough stock to me. Too far from Westchester, Claire'll never believe it."

"Claire," Derrick yawned, trying desperately to get the conversation on a different topic. Believe it or not, he easily tired of judging women's bodies. "How is she, anyway?"

"Expecting a ring, and doesn't think I know it," Cam said. He thanked and dismissed the returning waitress with a slim smile as she set the scotch in front of him. "She also wants that new BMW M4, but she has a higher chance of getting hitched than getting _that_. I am horrified whenever I see a woman driving anything with a 0-60 under 4 seconds. That shit is fucking scary, man. And to think I let her drive the Bentley home."

Cam paused to sip from his glass again. He tossed his black locks away from his forehead and paused contemplatively. Derrick took the time to glance out the window, watching a helicopter as it floated gently down onto the tarmac. He was thoroughly unfazed at his friend's derogatory comments, it was a common theme when Cam spoke of Claire.

"I guess I'll get her a new 'Rover if she wants, the size will slow her down at least. I don't know _why _she needs a new car though, the Q5 is only a year old…"

When Cam's pause stretched past a few moments, Derrick refocused curiously on his friend. His best friend was craning his neck, refocusing on something near the bar. Derrick let out a morose groan and prepared himself for a return to the earlier conversation.

"Now _that_," Cam breathed deeply, slouching down into a recumbent position as he refocused on Derrick, "is a _hot_ piece of ass."

"Which one?" Derrick inquired idly. He spotted three girls in the general area, a blonde and two auburn-haired girls who appeared to be twins.

"Just keep looking, you'll see," Cam insisted, his eyes ablaze with ardor.

Derrick sighed and half-lifted out of the booth. In an instant, he saw her. The girl was half bent over a bar stool, searching through a navy satchel. The position gave him a perfect view of her toned rear. She was wearing skin-tight jeans, a fact that made it hard for him to focus on anything else. When the girl straightened, Derrick understood what Cam was speaking about. Her profile was glorious, with full drooping lips and long thick eyelashes. When she half turned towards him, sitting down in the chair he got a glance at her far-set, wide brown eyes as they were momentarily illuminated by the sunlight.

Something about the girl made Derrick feel rapture and disconcertion simultaneously, and he had to shake his face to get his mind back on track.

"Am I not correct?" Cam breathed, smiling like a maniac. "The hottest thing I've seen in a long time. We gotta go."

Derrick came crashing back to reality. "You have a girlfriend. Soon to be fiancée, too, no matter how much you deny it."

Cam scoffed at the comment. "Just because she's good for the family and business doesn't mean I have to commit forever. Come on, Big D, let's give it a whirl. I saw your reaction, too, don't _deny_ it, she might end up choosing you."

"No," Derrick insisted.

"I'm going, no matter if you come or not," Cam declared insolently, running a palm through his hair to ready himself. "Come on, Derrick. Ol' envelopment will work like a charm. Do it for me."

"God damn it, Cam," Derrick swore as he shimmied out of the booth. He would never hear the end of it if he didn't go for the girl (and secretly, he couldn't deny that he _really_ wanted to talk to the pretty girl). It was rather strange, the very strong urge to hit on a girl, because it was seldom strong enough to overpower Derrick's feelings of self-doubt.

"Attaboy," Cam smiled and clapped Derrick on the back. He lead the way over to the girl's seat at the bar, making sure to make his walk as confident as possible. The effort was wasted, as the girl failed to glance up from her novel until the two twenty-somethings stood right beside her.

"Yes?" The girl spoke without turning, instead focusing on dog-earing her page in the novel. Once the crease was perfect, she carefully shut the book and glanced up at them.

Derrick was hit with a wave of déjà vu, but he couldn't place it. The fact was, this girl looked crazy familiar, but he was too engrossed in her features to focus on reminiscence.

The girl was far better looking up close. Espresso-colored waves hung in full undulations down to her shoulders, held back by a large pair of gold-flecked sunglasses. A few freckles graced her cheeks, and wove their way down her neck, barely visible on top of her tanned skin. A loose white tank top contrasted sharply against her skin and brought out the true color of her eyes. Up close, Derrick could see that "brown" was far too simple of a word to describe her eyes. Their base color was coffee, but with gold and tan and green and blue specks that melded together. Perhaps "amber" would be closer to reality.

At the same time as Derrick, the girl examined those before her. It took a few seconds for her eyes to widen and a few more for her eyes to take on a strange sheen.

"Hey-" Cam started, giving her an easy smile. "The name's Cam Fisher."

Brusquely, she twisted around and rifled through her bag. She pulled out a leather wallet and unzipped it with record speed, pulling out a $5 dollar bill and flinging it on to the counter.

Derrick watched dumbly, unable to comprehend as the girl half stood and threw the bag over her shoulder.

"Woah, where's the fire?" Cam laughed warmly, setting a palm on the girl's chair. "He doesn't bite" – he tossed a thumb carelessly at Derrick. "Me however…"

"I apologize," the girl said. The words were muffled as she bowed her head to check her phone. "My ride just got here."

Derrick's thoughts continued to whorl. That deep, throaty voice struck a chord. He definitely knew her, from somewhere.

"Well, at least give me your name. Where're you from? The city?" Cam was unfazed as he took a step back, surreptitiously checking out the girls' body. She was tall, at least 5' 9", with long toned legs that marked her as extremely fit.

"I wish I had time to chat," the girl frowned slightly, noting Cam's arm was still halfway blocking her escape. She slipped through the small space between Derrick and the chair instead. As she slithered by, her hair grazed Derrick. Instinctively, Derrick inhaled. Oh, god. He definitely knew now.

Realization spread through his body, both icy and searing at the same time.

As the tall girl made her escape out of the airport restaurant, Cam turned and ran fingers through his hair yet again.

"What the fuck? I haven't had a girl do that, hell, in a year or so," Cam snorted. "Whaddaya think, D?"

Derrick steadied himself on the girl's vacated spot, breathing in deeply.

"I believe," he exhaled again, "Cameron, that we've stumbled across a certain Massie Alexandra Block."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Cam intro! Derrick intro! Massie through Derrick's POV intro! Claire info! I know the chapter isn't super long, but I wanted to focus on this one event and maximize the importance. What do you think of Cam especially? What about Derrick? Let me know ALL of your thoughts!

**REVIEW QUESTION (Answer in box below): Are you a Massington fan over anything else? How opposed would you be to reading a non-Massington story? What's your favorite Massie pairing other than Massington? What about Derrick? **

This Review Question is _super important_! I know where I personally want to go with this story, but it helps a lot to get reader input. If you have any other thoughts about what you want to see, please let me know. I cannot guarantee anything, but it never hurts to ask :)

**- Bridget**


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